


An impasse.

by Ideasofmarch



Category: The Book of Mormon - Ambiguous Fandom, The Book of Mormon - Parker/Stone/Lopez
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Crack, F/F, F/M, Falling In Love, Growing Up, Internalized Homophobia, Kevin leaves the church, M/M, but he leaves before his mission, but we get over that, but without the pandemic, get these kids some therapy, its a little bit of, kevin does tiktok, kind of, like it's set in 2020, no beta we die like Kevins faith in god, please, unlearning unhealthy behaviour
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-29
Updated: 2021-01-28
Packaged: 2021-03-15 02:15:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,153
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29056515
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ideasofmarch/pseuds/Ideasofmarch
Summary: Kevin leaves the church at nineteen with little more than the clothes on his back and a lifetime of religious trauma.Three years later Elder 'Connor' McKinley is absolutely determined to bring him back into the fold. Kevin, in turn, is determined to never go back.You could say they've come to an impasse, of sorts.-Otherwise known as Kevin, a tiktok famous ex-mormon, and Connor, a slightly disillusioned missionary, bonding over their shared trauma.
Relationships: Elder "Connor" McKinley/Kevin Price
Kudos: 15





	An impasse.

**Author's Note:**

> Hello,  
> For the record, I did exactly three minutes of research into Mormonism when I wrote this. The rest of my inspiration comes from the musical. If anything in this fic offends you, sorry i guess? But if your listening to the book of mormon i really don't think you're in anyplace to get mad at me poking fun at religion. Other than that. Have fun!!
> 
> love,  
> IdeasofMarch

Kevin Price left the church of Jesus Christ (of latter day saints) at nineteen, barely a week before he was due to leave for his mission, with nothing more than the rucksack full of clothes he’d managed to throw together and a lifetime supply of religious trauma.

In hindsight, some planning would have probably saved him a whole lot of trouble.

But Kevin was smart, dedicated, incredibly handsome, if he did say so himself - what he was not, however: _patient_.

On God (or perhaps, not _that_ God, exactly) he hadn’t meant to storm out when he did.

Kevin had been questioning things for a while. He’d had his fair share of hell dreams thanks to it and it wasn’t even his fault, not really. It wasn’t his fault that the town Library was just sitting there, every single day, as he walked home from school. It wasn’t his fault the sixty year old librarian was struggling her way up the staircases with a pile of books in hand.

And what kind of good Mormon boy would he be if he didn’t help the elderly?

He’d helped the librarian - Jo Anne, he’d later come to learn - up the stairs and then, because he was polite, he’d offered to help her place them back where they belonged. And if he happened to wind up in the psychology section, well… Kevin supposed it was a certain kind of divine intervention.

The books back there were sporadic, there were entire rows that looked as if they hadn’t been touched in years and then two or three books that were so battered they must have been borrowed a hundred times each.

It was one of these books his finger had caught on that day.

 _‘Combating cult mind control’_ by Steven Hassan.

The title seemed almost fantastical to him, then. He’d carefully pulled it off the shelf, examined the cover and read the description on the back.

Something about it made Kevin uncomfortable, and he didn’t like it.

He put the book back, finished packing away the other books, and said goodbye to the librarian with a slightly strained smile. He went home and he didn’t sleep that night.

The day after he didn’t even look at the library as he passed it.

It took a week for him to break.

Jo Anne greeted him at the door and he indulged her in a lengthy conversation on tea brands. Kevin didn’t mind, he quite liked his herbal tea. Eventually she shooed him off, though. Telling him to get on with his reading like that wasn’t the exact thing he was trying to put off.

The book was waiting for him, right where he’d left it.

Kevin had been sort of hoping it would be checked out.

That book was just the start of it.

The more he read, the more time he spent buried in the library, the more he came to question the teachings he’d grown up with. Jo Ann wasn’t Mormon, she wasn’t even a christian, but she was his friend. She didn’t make him feel guilty for having interests outside of the church, didn’t make him hate himself for being human.

It was nice.

He went to the library as much as he could. From ages fourteen right through seventeen he’d spend at least an hour in the Library, more if he could. He’d help Jo Ann sort the books, return a couple that had been placed in the wrong section, and read to a group of children on Thursdays. Some days he spent two or three hours sitting up front with Jo Ann, debating the message of whatever book her reading club had read that week, other times he’d tuck himself into a dark reading nook and devour book after book, not saying a word for hours.

He found himself changing. He was less sure of himself, less arrogant, certainly. He no longer believed he was the second coming of Joseph Smith, no longer thought himself above other people. It was slow going, truly. But Jo Ann was patient with him, out logicing him whenever he got stuck in his own head. 

He’d even made a few friends - the first he’d ever made for himself outside of the church. 

There was a girl, Madeline, with cherry blossom pink hair and three separate nose piercings. She’d terrified Kevin at first. He’d almost yelped the first time she’d come up behind him and asked him where a book was. Lucky for him, though, she found him amusing. 

She came back to the library a few days later, walked up to his little reading corner and plopped herself down next to him. Reading together turned into her playing soft music for the both of them from her phone turned into him stifling a laugh at a joke she’d told turned into him sneaking out of his house to hang out with Madeline.

His family didn’t notice this - they’d never even think to check his room at night. Perfect little Kevin Price would _never_ sneak out.

The hell dreams about lying were worth it to sit with Madeline and her friends, who were swiftly becoming _his_ friends too, late at night in a dark parking lot. The four of them cramped into the back of an old pick up truck, Kevin wrapped up in a huge blanket he was sharing with all of them, laughing at nothing and just talking.

Jess and Leo, Madeline’s best friends since they were kids, had been weary of him at first. Which was fair enough. A different Kevin might have bristled at this, a couple of years ago he’d huff and storm away, but now he understood. Madeline and her friends were punks, complete with dyed hair and piercings and big, wide grins. They were the kind of people his parents would’ve told him to avoid. Kevin _looked_ like the kind of person who’d avoid them.

That first night Madeline had dragged him out to meet them he’d been nervous. Jess was tall, taller than Kevin who stood at a respectable 6’, and her dark hair (he’d later figure out that it wasn’t black, just a very deep purple) was pulled into a messy bun. Leo was shorter than both of them, though he was still taller than Madeline, and he was the only one of them with a natural hair colour.

They’d nodded at him in greeting, letting him get through approximately seven minutes of awkward rambling before Jess had huffed a laugh and lifted the edge of the blanket, inviting him over.

Kevin had never had friends that didn’t constantly talk about church. As such, Madeline, Jess, and Leo helped him learn a lot about himself.

Jess had offered Kevin his first sip of alcohol. He’d learned he hated the taste of beer, but he rather liked the cider that Madeline seemed to favour. Leo had given Kevin a stick-and-poke tattoo on his seventeenth birthday - just a little smiley face on his hip - and they’d all laughed when it came out looking like it had little fangs.

Once, someone from church had seen them together standing in line at the cinema. Kevin had had to pretend he was giving them Mormon spiel until the other Elder had disappeared. Jess laughed so hard she cried and Madeline made him pay for their popcorn that day.

Eventually, of course, he graduated highschool and no longer had any valid reason to hang around the Library as much as he did. He was expected to be at the center most of the day, working towards his mission.

But Kevin, being stubborn as he was, fabricated a volunteering position at the library. He’d even used a computer to print up a form, which Jo Ann helped him design and signed everyday with a smirk.

And that was the breaking point, really.

His father, commenting on how much time he spent ‘volunteering’ at the library, and his mother, offering a snide remark on that ‘disgraceful little librarian’.

So much for Mormon politeness, huh?

He didn’t know what was going to happen. He’d just… snapped.

“Her name,” He’d bitten out harshly, “Is Jo Ann. And she is the kindest person I have ever met. You should be ashamed of yourselves, bad mouthing her like that.”

His mother had blinked, shocked at him raising his voice at her, “But - she’s a _gentile_!”

“Well, maybe so am I!” He’d spat in response.

For a moment no one said anything, the room was silent except for his harsh breathing. 

Then his father opened his mouth, “Out.”

“What?” It had barely been a whisper.

“I will not harbour a gentile.” He pointed one finger towards the front door, “Go get your things. And get out.”

So he did.

Kevin had run up to his room, thrown as many clothes as he could into an old gym bag, wrapped his favourite blanket around his shoulders and he’d left.

That night, he slept on a bench.

This went on for about three weeks. 

Which is, of course, about as long as he was able to hide his situation from Jo Ann.

“Silly boy,” She’d muttered after dragging the entire story out of him, “I have three extra rooms, you’ll be staying in one.”

And just like that Kevin had a home again. More than that, he had a home where he felt safe, unjudged. He had someone who sat with him and giggled as he went through thirteen different brands of coffee trying to decide which he liked best, someone who patiently explained science to him when his textbooks just didn’t make sense.

Someone who held him when he woke up from a hell dream and didn’t tell him he deserved to suffer.

* * *

Connor was exhausted.

He’d only just arrived back from Uganda, of all places, after a wildly unsuccessful mission only to be placed right back into door-to-door missionary service.

And he wasn’t complaining, Heavenly Father knew Connor would never complain about his duty to the church. But he really, _really_ didn’t think a week off to get used to having air-conditioner again was too much to ask for. He knew the church was probably just trying to cheer him up, letting him convert a few people going door-to-door after not converting a single person on his mission.

But he was just _tired_. 

Uganda had been a lot. When it had become evident that nothing he preached was going to convert the villagers he’d set out to improve their lives as much as he could regardless. Connor was skinnier now than he’d ever been due to the fact that most of his food had gone to the starving children for the past two years. His hands were covered in calluses from helping to throw up house after ramshackled house.

His heart was heavier, having watched as the people he’d come to care for succumbed to hunger and disease, and him being helpless to stop it.

Connor walked up to a door on the more secular part of town, shoving any remaining feelings of unpleasantness down, down, down until it was practically non-existent and plastered on a cheerful Mormon smile.

“Hello!” He greeted as the door opened to reveal a boy who looked about his age, maybe a little younger.

The boy was on a cell-phone, grinning down at something, and he hadn’t even really looked up at Connor yet.

“My name is Elder McKinley and I would like to share with you the most amazing book.”

This, it seems, got the boys attention. His thumb paused on his screen, his entire body froze actually. Connor was about to ask if he was alright when his head snapped up - and then Connor had to bite back a gasp.

The other boy was dressed in simple enough clothes, a shirt that almost looked like a blouse tucked into a pair of loose fitted, high waisted jeans - paired with some boots Connor recognised as Doc Martins. 

But his _eyes_.

They would have been captivating on their own, but the boy had his outlined in a dark liner, and the mascara covering his lashes just made the brown pop that much more.

“What?”

It took Conner a moment to figure out that the boy was talking to him.

“Would you - Do you have a moment to talk about Jesus Christ?” He managed after a moment.

The boy stared at him for one moment, then another, and then he burst into peals of laughter.

If Connor wasn’t so offended he might’ve commented on what a nice laugh it was.

As it was he kind of just stood there, gaping like a particularly inept fish, until the boy got a hold of himself.

“Im - I’m sorry,” The boy huffed, “Never expected to see _that_ outfit again, is all.”

Conner, despite himself, perked up, “So you’re familiar with the book of Mormon?”

An amused smirk curled up his lips, “I suppose you could say that.”

“Could I come in?” Conner asked.

In lieu of answering, the other boy said, “I left the church.”

This stopped Connor short and it was his turn to mutter a soft, “What?”

* * *

Kevin actually, could not believe this was happening right now.

Three years. 

Three entire, freaking years of avoiding Mormonism like the plague and then some missionary twink shows up at his front door and almost sends him into a breakdown.

Martha, his therapist, had been advising him to get closure, so to speak. But she’d also warned him away from interacting with the church if he didn’t feel like he was ready for it. 

And he wasn’t ready for it.

So when the missionary opened his mouth Kevin laughed. He laughed because if he didn’t laugh he’d probably start crying. 

“So you’re familiar with the book of Mormon?”

Kevin answered in the affirmative with a sort of crazed bewilderment. God, he should have just left salt lake - but that would mean leaving Jo Ann, and Kevin didn’t even entertain the idea of himself doing that, not anytime soon.

The poor guy looked so excited, and Kevin was momentarily a little disappointed by the fact that there was no way this guy was into men because _damn_ , that’s a nice smile. Kevin hated to be the one to make it disappear.

“I left the church.”

“What?”

Kevin sighed, stepping back, “Look, you can come in if you want - but I’m never going back.”

Instead of walking away like Kevin expected him too, the missionary followed him inside, glancing around at the living room - he seemed particularly fascinated with Kevin’s ring light - before taking a seat on the couch when Kevin pointed at it.

“But why would you ever want to leave?”

Again, Kevin sighed. 

He remembered being like that. Remembered the months of denial, the repression. Pretending he simply had a vested interest in the human psych and not that he was trying to figure out whether or not he’d been brainwashed.

“I got tired of the hell dreams.” He said instead of unpacking all his baggage onto the missionary.

The truth was the church just made him unhappy. Jo Ann had shown him that there was a life outside of feeling guilty and awful for every little lie, for every little misstep. Madeline, Jess, and Leo had shown him that he did, in fact, like things other than the church. They’d let him try things and fumble through interest after interest with the same gleeful enthusiasm as the first one.

And once he’d gotten just a taste of that freedom Kevin had never wanted to go back - even if cutting the church out of his life hurt and left him a broken mess, he was still better off without it.

“But -” The missionary started, then stopped for a moment, “What’s your name?”

“Kevin.” He ran a hand through his hair, “Kevin Price.”

“Oh.”

* * *

Conner could not, at that moment, particularly describe his thoughts.

He’d found the missing Kevin Price.

The lost golden boy of Mormonism.

Kevin Price - he’s definitely not _Elder_ Price, not anymore - was sitting in front of him in what was definitely a woman’s shirt and eyeliner, staring at him with an exasperated air.

“Oh.”

“You’ve heard of me, then?” The other boy - Kevin _Price_ \- says. There’s a beeping noise from the kitchen and he pushes himself to his feet.

Connor takes the moment to collect himself and by the time Kevin returns - with a steaming cup of _coffee_ in his hand - he’s ready to talk.

“They said you went missing.”

Kevin snorts as he takes a sip, “Liars.”

“What?”

“My parents,” Kevin clarifies, “they kicked me out.” He takes another sip, Connor tracks the movement with his eyes, “Though I suppose I'd've run if they hadn’t acted first.”

Again, all Connor can say is, “What?”

“You okay, man?” Kevin pauses, “Do you want some water or something?”

“A water. Please.” Connor manages, nodding gratefully when Kevin quickly fills up a glass and hands it back to him.

As Connor sips on the drink he watches Kevin go back to his phone, scrolling a little before typing out a couple of messages to someone. 

Part of Connor wants to ask what he’s doing, who he’s texting and what that really bright light thing is in the corner of the room. He’s a little fascinated, at all of this. The slouched way Kevin is reclined in the couch - so sharply contrasting with the perfect Mormon posture Connor is maintaining. His shirt looks soft too, it’s black, a little see through, with embroidered stars and moons scattered throughout. 

Connor thinks it looks amazing.

He doesn’t say so, though.

He doesn’t say anything at all.

Because Kevin Price apparently ran away, excommunicated himself from the church, and Connor just can’t make sense of it.

Didn’t Kevin know that he was dooming himself?

He was damning himself to hell and he didn’t even seem worried about it.

Connor finishes his water.

“Why did they kick you out?”

Kevin looks up through his eyelashes at him, “You sure you want to get into that, Elder?”

“Y-yes.”

“Don’t you have places to be, people to convert?” Kevin tosses his phone across the couch, “If I’ve learned anything from therapy, this is a long conversation. And it’s not one I think you’ll particularly enjoy.”

_Therapy?_

“Therapy?”

“I didn’t just leave the church and go on my merry way.” He scoffed, “Religious trauma. _So_ much fun.”

Connor was silent for a moment.

“Could I come back?”

* * *

“What?”

Kevin had to be losing it.

The Elder seemed to be gaining back that trademark Mormon confidence now that he’d gotten over his shock. Kevin took another sip of his coffee, just to see his eye twitch.

“Could I set up another appointment with you, to discuss this more?”

“And by _this_ you mean why I left the church?” 

“Well, yes.” Elder McKinely perked up slightly, “Though perhaps we could talk through your issues with the church and see your safe return.”

Kevin snorted again. This guy had some gall, he’d give him that. Talk through his issues with the church? Yeah fucking right. Three years of professional therapy and he still wasn’t entirely through with his issues - he’d likely _never_ be free of them - and this guy thought he could fix it all with a couple of talks.

For a moment, Kevin missed the blind optimism he used to have. That glaring confidence - arrogance - that told him that if he just prayed hard enough he could accomplish anything.

“I’m not coming back to the church.” Kevin says after a beat of silence, “Not ever.”

“I just don’t believe that.” McKinely smiles.

Kevin thinks that he should just kick the man out and tell him to never come back. He should do that. Instead he shakes his head and says, “Then it would seem we’ve reached an impasse.”

McKinely stands, Kevin follows on instinct. Kevin notices that he towers over the other boy, especially in his boots. Mckinley has to almost tilt his head back at an uncomfortable looking angle just to look him in the eye.

“Same time next week?”

Kevin doesn’t say no, even though he sort of wants too.

He walks McKinely to the door without saying a word, shuts it and bolts it.

Three seconds later he tapped Madeline’s contact on his phone.

The phone rings once, twice.

“What’s up.”

“Mads, I think I fucked up.”

“What?” He hears her fumble with something on the other end of the line, “Kev what happened?”

“I - there was a missionary at my door.”

“Oh my god, Kevin.” Again, he hears her moving, this time he’s pretty sure he hears a door slam, “I’m coming over there.”

“No - no, Mads I’m fine, I just needed to talk -”

“Shut up Kevin.”

Despite himself, he smiles, “You don’t need to come.”

“Do you want me to pick Jess and Leo up?”

Kevin sighes, “Oh whatever. Yes, can you buy a bottle of absolut on the way. We finished my bottle last week.”

“That bad, huh?”

He hears Madeline’s car rumble to life, her voice is farther away, meaning she’s probably put him on speaker and thrown the phone onto the passenger seat.

“Apparently my parents told the church I went missing.”

Madeline snorts.

“Mm, that was my reaction too.”

“Jesus, Kev. I’ll see you in ten, yeah? The four of us can get plastered and forget about the church.”

“Thanks Mads.”

“Course. See you soon.”

“See you soon.” He echoed before hanging up.

Kevin puts his phone down with a sigh. What was he thinking, agreeing to meet the missionary again? Martha was going to kill him, or give him a lollipop, maybe both. 

The ring light was still on in the corner of the room and his tripod was still set up. 

He didn’t have another session with Martha scheduled until next week. (and he knew technically if he called she could probably squeeze in an emergency session for tomorrow but…)

He put his phone into the tripod, giggling it until he was in frame.

“The universe hates me.” He starts, because it really, really does at this point. He takes a deep breath before starting. Usually when he does this he just films one long spiel, and then he edited it before sharing it.

Martha, a couple of months ago, had suggested keeping a diary. Something to help himself sort through his thoughts and memories. Jess, jokingly, had suggested video logs when he complained about how much his hands hurt after scrawling day after day in an old leather journal.

And then Leo told him to post it on TikTok, because it would be funny.

Apparently, it sort of was. Kevin currently had just under 700 thousand followers, all of whom seemed incredibly invested in his life story. On one hand, this was really great for his ego. On the other, Kevin had apparently become an inspiration, of sorts, to other kids questioning Mormonism and even a lot of ex-mormons looking for support.

He also posted a few makeup challenges, a couple of silly dances and some collabs with Madeline.

But his Mormon videos were by and far the most popular.

“So I’m just sitting in my house, dressed like _this_.” He gestures down his own body and then circles a hand around his face, “when the doorbell rings. Now, at this point I think nothing of it and I go check who it is - and who do I find? Guess. Please just think of the person you think I’d least like to open my door and see.”

Kevin waits a second.

“A bloody missionary.”

He laughs a little.

“I _know_. Sounds like the start of a bad joke: A missionary knocks on the door and tries to convert the runaway ex-poster boy of Mormonism. Anyway, I almost have a mental breakdown - but I think I almost gave the guy a break down in return, so, hah!”

Kevin looks off to the side of the camera for a second, nods slightly.

“Yeah. Madeline and the crew are on their way over. We plan to get very, very drunk.” Kevin blows out a harsh breath of air, “Remember kids, do as I say not as I do. Call your therapist if someone from your ex-cult tries to reconvert you.”

He winks at the camera, “I’ll do that tomorrow.”

He taps his phone screen, stopping the recording. He’s still got another five minutes before Madeline pulls up, so he edits the short video. Trimming a few seconds here and there until he’s happy with the result.

He looks stressed out, but not exactly terrible.

Kevin decides it’s good enough and posts it.

Madeline's car rumbles as it pulls into his drive way. Kevin can already hear his friends talking as he walks to the front door to let them in. He takes a deep breath, lets it out. He's okay.  
  


He'll be okay.

**Author's Note:**

> And there's chapter one. Next chapter we see Connor and Kevin's first battle of wills, and Jo Anne makes an appearance.
> 
> Thank you for reading!!


End file.
